Love Miroshnikova





In Memory of Mom

Gubina Lydia Prokofiev

Do not wind carried away my sorrows.

Everything reminds me of you.

All that warmed my soul in the world,

Is associated with you, my dear!

In my girlish braids weave

You are my caring tenderness.

I'm growing up in your arms,

Knowing security, serenity.

In the hands of the difficulties you are not lowered.

The heart of mourning, joy, bestowed to us.

And the way you're not looking for light,

And thanked the Creator for all.

My mother in law of universe

You leave. Remained pain of loss.

And the confusion and suffering ─

All together in a mournful figure of date.

It says: «The Lord has all alive.»

I hope straightens her shoulders.

All doubts are vain and deceitful

In that vain, I am waiting with you meeting.

No prices are not only days ─ minutes

In the middle of the universal whirl

Lit my mother's comfort,

Where only close to my mother we are all children.

I myself have long-grandson,

But as a child, he suddenly woke up at midnight,

In a bitter hour, when the heart of flour,

Cry and call you for help.

The essence of my gravity

Only love overcoming,

Feel your transformation ─

You can not live only in memory.





BELLS KUBAN

By the evening with the heights of the Red Cathedral

Prayer bells ringing.

Ruby sunset adorned the city.

Early stars twinkling bright river.

Willow leaned over her repentance,

In the river water they see the heavenly light!

And in awe they enthusiastic enough,

What city in the sink vanity.

Roars, rages Kuban capital

In Krasnodar ─ eternal things!

But the transformation of their faces,

When a call out to them bells!

When the hollow concrete blocks of flats

Permeates their holy motive,

The blind receive their sight, even the soul,

Although used for a moment, forgiving his enemies!

Holy love and purification of the motive

Calling the heart to do good works,

So that was not in them pride and revenge,

Sinful passions, laziness and evil.

Listening to you, the bells of the Kuban,

Heart of a living faith, burn!

Above you, shining in the golden Rani,

And the angels and doves soar!




TRANSFIGURATION

When the snow comes down from the heights,

Concealing an earthly mud,

Soul, tired of the hardships,

Want to cry with happiness.

And all the snowflakes to one

Listen to, like a revelation.

And if an angel behind

Sorrow into oblivion.

Supernatural light,

Skylight

Transforms a person faces.

And inspired by the poet

By creating great images.





THE POWER OF HOPE

When thrown on the island of wave

He was lying face down at the sea edge,

Mourned the gulls behind

The broken mast miserable wreck.

The only one he miraculously survived

Of the accident victims of shipwreck.

When he awoke, he turned gray from grief.

But all are looking for in the hope of consolation.

And, looking every day in the open sea,

He longed to live in spite of loss.

From the sun vozzhigaya your fire

Barely alive, he was rescued by a frigate.

So you're thrown out, my soul,

Waves on the shore of solitude

Everyday life on earth,

With the loss, distress, tribulation.

But the glimmer of a fire Prayer St.

In moments of fatal shock.

And my heart sees a golden haze

Hurrying on the waves of the frigate salvation.